While he read through her notes, she studied him a little more. When she first met him, she'd thought he was walking perfection, but today, she noticed his nose was a tad crooked as if it had been broken at one time. He also had a faint two-inch scar along his jawline, a little bit below his right ear and she wondered what had caused it. Those small imperfections only enhanced his good looks and made him seem even sexier, if it was at all possible.
As she walked into the bathroom and shut the door to change for the third time, Kayla told her, "I'm so jealous you're going to The Covenant tonight. Roxy and I put in a membership application six months ago and from what I understand the waiting list to get in is almost a year, unless a Dom sponsors you and even then it takes a while."
Kristen pulled the cotton-spandex dress over her head and dragged it down her body, smoothing the fabric as she went. "I didn't know you two were...in the lifestyle."
"We don't advertise because most people don't understand BDSM and tend to be negative about it. Roxy got me into it when we first met years ago. She became a Domme in college but didn't have much time to play when she hit med school. At the moment, we belong to another private club called Heat, but don't go as much as we would like. We would prefer the guarded privacy and exclusiveness The Covenant is known for. Some parents of Roxy's kids would flip if they found out she likes to flog my ass."
Kayla was a social worker and Dr. Roxanne London had a thriving pediatric practice. They were also the complete opposites of each other. Where Kayla was five-foot-two, a 'size twelve on a good day and a fourteen on a bad one,' her words, and a blue-eyed blonde, Roxy was seven inches taller and a size six, with auburn hair and hazel eyes. Kayla was disorganized and loved sci-fi movies, while Roxy was a neat freak who went to at least one indie or foreign film a month, either alone or with a friend because her wife had a tendency to fall asleep during them. But despite their differences or maybe it was due to them, the two made the perfect couple.
"I can see why you would want to keep it private." She zippered the side of the dress and looked at her reflection from the waist up in the mirror above the sink. Not bad.
"Most members of the BDSM community do. If we run into other members in public outside of the club, we either act like we know them from someplace else or don't know them at all."
Kristen opened the door and stepped out for them to see. She'd only worn the dress once before, to a gala on New Year's Eve after she first got married. Her ex hadn't liked the revealing one-shoulder design, complaining she had too many men staring at her. But she loved how the ruching at the waist gave her size twelve body an hour glass figure. The hem stopped mid-thigh and she tugged it down a little, trying to hide the fact she had no underwear on.
"Bow-chicka-wow-wow." Leave it to Will to say something to make her laugh and forget how nervous she was.
Kayla whistled. "Damn girl, I'm going to have to borrow that someday. You look hot."
Kristen looked at her reflection in the mirror attached to her closet door turning from side to side to see the dress from all possible angles. She may never be skinny by today's standards but some of Will's friends had told her, with her generous curves, give her a blond wig and she would've given Marilyn Monroe some serious competition. "You sure I look okay? It's not too slutty looking?"
"Slutty? No. High class call-girl? Yes. And it's the way you want to look, trust me on this. Now let's see what we can do with your hair and makeup. Will, can you find her a pair of shoes to wear?" Kayla led her back into the bathroom and Kristen tried to imagine Devon's reaction when he saw her. Would he like her dress or would he complain about it like her ex-husband had? She prayed it was the former.
* * *
Devon looked at his watch for the fourth time in under two minutes as he paced back and forth in front of Tuscany, the restaurant they were meeting at. She was ten minutes late. He wanted to pick her up at her home but decided not to suggest it, figuring she would be more comfortable this way given the fact he was still a relative stranger to her. A fact he intended to rectify as soon as possible.
As much as he wanted to use her lateness as an excuse to spank her delicious backside, he was more worried she'd changed her mind and chickened out. He'd been shocked when he first saw her standing in the pit, however, the shock had morphed into anger and jealousy at the fact she was in his club with Mitch and not him. The two of them hadn't been doing anything other than talking but, damn it, he wanted to be the one to introduce her to BDSM...especially since he now knew she was researching the lifestyle he loved.
Behind him, he heard the sound of heels running down the sidewalk. Turning, he froze as Kristen hurried toward him. She was beautiful. Her brown hair fell around her face in soft curls and he longed to run his fingers through them. Her styled hair and the subtle makeup that lit up her face made him realize she put in an extra effort while preparing for their date and the thought made his heart race. He watched as she approached him and he managed to get a peek of her black dress under the lightweight rain coat she wore. Although the temperature was cooler than normal for a late September evening, it wasn't cold or rainy out and he assumed the coat was for modesty. He hoped it meant her dress was a little out of her comfort zone.
"Sorry I'm late." She tried to catch her breath. "I couldn't find my car keys and then I couldn't find a parking spot." Unlike Donovan's, Tuscany didn't have a parking lot and customers had to find on-street parking.
"It's alright, Pet. I'll just take it out on your backside later."
Kristen gaped at him. "You want to spank me because I'm ten minutes late?"
"Yup." He looked at his watch. "And you're thirteen minutes late, so I think that calls for thirteen smacks. It's a decent amount for your first spanking."
Not giving her a chance to respond, he took her arm and escorted her into the restaurant. While they waited for the hostess, he helped her out of her coat and tried to keep from swallowing his tongue. Damn. When he told her to wear the sexiest dress she had, he didn't expect her to have one which made her look like a seductive siren. Between the dress, her mile long legs and those three-inch black stilettos, the woman was going to give him a heart attack. He was going to have to fuck her in nothing but those heels sometime real soon.
He folded her coat over his arm, using it to hide the swelling in his pants, and leaned over to whisper in her ear. "You look gorgeous, Pet. I wish I could bend you over a table and fuck you right here in front of everyone. But since I can't, tell me, did you obey my orders? Did you leave your underwear at home? Because if you didn't, we're heading straight to the ladies room and I don't care who sees us."
A pink blush rose to her cheeks and she almost wished she'd disobeyed him because she could feel a rush of arousal coating her pussy. If he kept talking to her like that, it would be dripping down her legs soon.
"Yes." She whispered the word, afraid someone would overhear her and know how turned on she was.
"Prove it."
She gasped and her cheeks were now beet red. They were in the front of a crowded restaurant and he wanted her to prove she wasn't wearing any underwear. How the heck was she supposed to do it without getting arrested for indecent exposure?
"H-how?"
He must have read her mind because he chuckled. "Not the way you're thinking, Pet. Turn around, nice and slow, and let me feel if you have any panty lines."
He put his hand on her hip and she made a complete turn, his hand staying in contact with her body the entire rotation, across both hips, the top of her buttocks and across her lower abdomen. When she was once again facing him, she glanced around and was relieved no one appeared to be paying them any attention.
"Very good, Pet. You saved yourself from additional punishment, although I'm sure I'll find something else which will add to the count before the night is over."
She was grateful to have his teasing interrupted when the hostess chose that moment to approach them and Devon gave his name which the reservations were under. It
She tamped her jealousy down and when the hostess told them to follow her, Devon motioned for Kristen to walk in front of him. The whole way across the restaurant she got the feeling he was ogling her ass as they made their way to a table against the far wall. The thought made her smile and she put a little more sway in her hips. She could have sworn she heard a low growl and giggled to herself.
When they reached their table, she was surprised he pulled out a chair for her to sit on before taking his own seat across from her. The gesture made her feel like a lady. She couldn't remember Tom ever holding out her chair for her. She watched as Devon draped her coat over the back of the empty chair next to him before the hostess handed them their menus and excused herself. Although there were only two place settings at the table, it could seat four people, which Kristen was happy about. She hated tables for two because there was never enough room and she always found herself knocking over a glass of wine or water. The last thing she wanted tonight was to look like a klutz.
A smartly dressed waiter approached their table and filled their water glasses. "Good evening, my name is Kevin and I'll be your waiter. Can I get you anything from the bar while you look over your menus?"
Devon looked at Kristen and arched his brow in question. "Would you like a glass of wine or something else?"
"White wine, please–a Riesling if they have it."
He nodded then turned back to the young man who stood waiting. "A Riesling for the lady and I'll have tonic water with lime. Thank you."
"You're not having any alcohol?" she asked, after the waiter left to get their order.
"No, I don't drink."
"Ever?" She knew it sounded like it was the weirdest thing she ever heard but she didn't know any men who didn't at least have the occasional beer or two.
"No."
The way he said the one word made it clear to her it would be best if she changed the subject. She opened her menu and began looking at the choices. Everything sounded so delicious.
"So, what's good on the menu since this is my first time here? What are you getting?"
When he didn't answer right away, she glanced up and saw a sexy smile on his face. "Well, since what I want to eat isn't on the menu," he paused and her face heated, "I'm having the steak pizzaiola. It's one of the chef's specialties. What do you prefer–beef, chicken, veal, seafood or pasta?"
"I pretty much eat anything, but I'm leaning toward either the veal piccata or the mushroom-crusted salmon. Which do you recommend?"
"I've never had the salmon but I can assure you, you won't be disappointed with the veal."
Kristen giggled. "You sound like a car salesman."
Devon laughed at her comparison. The waiter returned with their drinks and they placed their dinner orders. A few minutes later, they were enjoying Caesar salads and warm fresh Italian bread.
"So, Ms. Kristen Anders, tell me about yourself, other than what's in your short biography I read on the back of Jenn's book."
She took a sip of her wine. "What would you like to know?"
Shrugging his shoulder, he picked up a small pepper mill and added some black pepper to his salad. He held the mill up toward her and she shook her head. "I don't know; tell me about your family, where you grew up, what you did before becoming a romance writer. Things you've told other guys on a first date."
"Well, since I've only had a few first dates in my life and my last first date was over four years ago, I'm not sure I remember what I talked about on them."
Devon stopped his salad fork halfway to his mouth and stared at her in surprise. "Okay, explain please, because I find it hard to believe you aren't beating men off with a stick."
Kristen blushed, which she did a lot around him, and stared at her own salad like it was the most interesting thing in the world. He put his fork down, reached across the table and placed two fingers under her chin. He then lifted it until she was looking at him again. His eyes were a deeper blue tonight in the low restaurant lighting. "Talk to me, Kristen. Believe it or not, I've never said this to a woman before, but you fascinate me and I want to know everything about you."
She doubted it was true, but it did prompt her to start talking. "I was a bookworm through high school and college, kind of nerdy. I was shy around guys, I guess, and didn't date a lot. I had one serious boyfriend my sophomore year of college but he got tired..." She paused, not wanting to finish the sentence.
"Tired of what, Pet?
She didn't know what it was about that one word, but it made her heart pound faster and she liked the nickname. It felt intimate though she doubted she was the only woman he used it on. "He got tired of me telling him no." She lowered her voice so he was the only person who could hear her. She couldn't believe she was telling him this ten minutes into their first date but she couldn't stop the words. "You see, I was a virgin on my wedding night two years ago. I met Tom my senior year and although we fooled around, something in me wanted to wait. I know it sounds silly in this day and age, but it was important to me."
"It's not silly at all, Kristen. I think it shows what a strong woman you are. One who knows what she wants and what she doesn't. And you're willing to fight for what feels right to you. There's nothing wrong with waiting for the right guy and I respect you for doing it." He paused when a look of disbelief appeared on her pretty face. "What?"
The corners of her mouth twitched as she held back a smirk. "I find it hard to believe you respect my long-term virginity when you own a sex club."
He let out a small snort. "Okay, I can see your point but what I said was true. Guys have no trouble losing their virginity and having sex with any woman who is willing, but women are wired differently. Sex is more emotional for them, well, most of them. I hope my niece waits for the right guy and don't even think of making me believe she is anything but a virgin."
"Yeah, well, in my case, the right guy didn't come along. My ex-husband had been cheating on me the whole time we were dating and while we were married. But I didn't find out until it was too late. The skanks he preferred wouldn't look like a good wife for a respected stockbroker, like the goody-two-shoes I was."
"What an asshole, excuse my language."
Kristen couldn't help snickering at him. "Let’s see, you've told me you want to fuck me on a table and spank my ass, so I think calling my ex an asshole is rather tame."
He laughed along with her. "Alright, enough about your ex-fudge pecker. Tell me about you."
"Little ol' me."
Devon pointed his fork at her before digging into his salad again. "Yes, Pet. Little ol' you. Start talking or I'll start adding to the count of thirteen."
"You wouldn't," she gaped.
"Fourteen."
"Alright, alright. Has anyone ever said you would make a good interrogator?"
"Fifteen."
"I was born in a log cabin..."
He rolled his eyes. She was pushing her luck. "Sixteen."
"No, it's true. I was born in a log cabin. My parents went to my dad's family's cabin in the Poconos a month before my mom's due date. They figured it would be the last chance they had to get away, you know, just the two of them. The next morning mom woke up in full-blown labor. She didn't realize she'd been in labor for over twenty-four hours because the contractions weren't strong until all of a sudden she felt the need to push. Before my dad had a chance to get her to the car, she started crowning and whoops, there I was. Dad was a cop but he had never delivered a baby before. He did fine until the ambulance got there. After he let the EMT's in though, he passed out, hit his head on a table and needed ten stitches. He always said it's why I was an only child.
They were both laughing as the waiter took their salad plates and replaced them with their dinners. Devon asked the young man for another round of drinks before turning his attention back to her. "I think I would have done and said the exact same thing. I've seen a lot in my life. Things which would scare the hell out of most people but delivering a kid would send me into a panic–and I never panic." He paused as a busboy stopped and refilled their water glasses. "So, okay, you're an only child. Are your folks still around?"
She nodded and picked up her knife and fork. "Yes. They divorced when I was ten. Mom, Elizabeth, was an elementary school teacher and never learned how to live with a cop who was always being called into work on days off and holidays. His rotating shifts didn't help matters. Although he's always been a good father, mom said dad wasn't even close to being a part-time husband. Looking back, I'm surprised their marriage lasted as long as it did. As divorces go, it was friendly. No fighting over who gets what, or those sorts of things. Dad, his name is Bill, got remarried when I was fifteen to a nice lady named Susan who works in the courts. He retired from the Philadelphia police department two years later. He's now teaching criminal justice at the community college. Mom and my step-dad, Ed–he's an insurance adjuster–eloped to Vegas three months after my wedding and moved to the Jersey shore a few months later. I have two older step-brothers but we barely know each other, they live near their mom about an hour from where we lived."
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